The Demon King's Destiny

by C. A. Worley

  Favin started to protest but Marrok had already moved on. Snarls and shouts carried through the air. Metal clashed against metal in the near distance. His instinct was to raise his weapon and defend his king.

  He stepped towards the sound of chaos when Danil’s big hand gripped him hard. “Leave him be, Favin. No rogue is a match for Marrok in hand-to-hand.”

  “There are at least a dozen of them, Danil.”

  “Lazlo’s already got archers all over the roof. If Marrok needs help, he’ll get it. For now, he needs to work some of this out of his system.”

  Favin lifted his head to the parapets and saw twenty guards with their bows notched and ready to fly. The cries echoing off the stone walls were not those of his liege. His shoulders relaxed and he returned his sword to its sheath. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 15

  Six months later …

  Evelyn sat hunched at the small table, positioned where the walking trail opened to the meadow. The small piece of furniture had remained since she first conjured it, though, the candles were no longer lit. There was no point in lighting them.

  There’d been no correspondence from Marrok this month. Or the last. She hadn’t heard from him since the last day of fall, hadn’t seen him since late summer.

  He’d missed their planned meeting half a year ago. True to his word, however, he had managed to leave a short note telling Evelyn to attempt summoning him once each month. If it was safe enough, he would sleep and dreamwalk to her. He didn’t tell her what to do if it wasn’t safe, not that she could help him.

  The month following his first missed meeting, Marrok left another note, apologizing and instructing her to try again after the next lunar cycle. Then another note came. And another. Four months of letters scratched on parchment, but no Marrok. In each instance, he left his letter atop the table weighted down by a solitary rock.

  She’d taken to going to bed early to increase her chances of seeing him. Marrok must have been sleeping during the day because she’d never crossed his path. She feared his recent absences meant he wasn’t sleeping for long enough stretches to reach her.

  Evelyn mourned the time she could have had to get to know Marrok. She worried constantly. His letters had assured her he was alive and well. Four months in a row of messages helped assuage her fears, though she questioned his assertion of being well.

  When she found nothing last month, she convinced herself it wasn’t the end of the world. Evelyn knew he was facing something far more important than scribbling her a line or two.

  She’d left him a note of her own. With her heart heavy, she’d left him only a handful of words, unable to come up with anything of more substance.

  Evelyn knew he was alive because she could garner his emotions from time to time, as recently as this afternoon. It felt like Marrok was struggling more this week. Thankfully, she sensed no insanity. The bulk of his feelings swung between fury and frustration.

  This morning, she could sense profound sadness to the point his melancholy had become her own. So potent was his misery, Evelyn’s resolve started to weaken. She believed it had something to do with feeling his emotions because she never thought of herself as one to give up.

  Each time she arrived in the clearing, she did the same thing. She checked for evidence Marrok had been here. If he hadn’t, she explored what the dreamworld allowed her to explore and occupied her mind with other tasks.

  She also tested her powers here. She could make items appear, such as the table. She could manipulate her clothing, something she’d subconsciously been doing her entire life. Only once before had she shown in the clearing wearing what she’d wore to bed.

  These were tricks she could perform only in her sleep. Elementals didn’t have such magics in the waking world. No one did. That didn’t mean her natural talents weren’t improved. Far from it.

  During training these long months, her father noticed she’d grown stronger, attributing it to her transition into adulthood. Evelyn suspected it had more to do with the fledgling bond she shared with the King of Sundari—a bond her father knew nothing about.

  Every waking and sleeping moment, Evelyn faced the arduous task of controlling her emotions. She’d done well remaining positive most of the time. The lack of a note tonight was another punch to the gut.

  Emotionally exhausted, questioning if she should take steps to find him in the waking world, she rose from the chair and entered the forest. There was no point sitting there like a lovesick fool.

  As she strolled towards her destination, she pictured what Marrok’s reaction might be to what she’d created for them. Shortly after he’d been awoken by blade again, Evelyn had done something for Marrok. Or, really, had fulfilled his pseudo request.

  Just into the woods, there was an area where the canopy was sparse and the soft purplish-blue moonbeams illuminated the forest floor. It was enclosed by a circle of trees with just enough space between for a large bed.

  A bed not designed for sleeping.

  The idea had seemed brilliant at the time, as a sort of amorous way to greet him. She’d added the softest of bedding, imagining tumbling onto it, pinned under his weight.

  Ruefully, she doubted they’d be able to share it any time soon. Like the table, she left it here, knowing he would eventually come to her. Eventually may as well have been forever.

  Standing mere feet away from her creation, she leaned against a large oak and took in the romantic setting. The moonlight shone on the duvet, making the white material appear to have a blueish tint.

  It was an oasis in woods. She liked the idea of it, the feel of this place. Here she found some level of peace, thinking of it as theirs.

  The back of Evelyn’s eyes started to burn. Her lids closed and she pictured Marrok’s chiseled physique. She remembered every cut and slope of definition in his upper body, the bright amber shining from his eyes as his hands and mouth brought her to the height of pleasure.

  In the dreamworld, Evelyn felt safe and brave enough to explore her sexuality. She was ready to take the next physical step with Marrok, to share something she knew they both desired, to feel the intimacy lovers shared.

  More than that, she wanted to hold him and know he was unharmed. She wanted to tell him she would wait an eternity for him—if she could live that long.

  The blood exchange created a tenuous connection between them. If Marrok’s assertions were correct, the connection was but a fraction of what it would be when they met in the waking world.

  A tear slipped free and she clumsily wiped it away. Crying would do her no good. She blinked several times, regaining her composure.

  A low rumbling vibrated through the trees, their limbs shaking and rustling the leaves. The soft purple and blue sky turned bright red, reminiscent of the evening he’d come to her not so long ago, livid at having been apart for two years.

  An animalist howl broke through the quiet, followed by the sound of something crashing through the forest. She gasped and turned towards the source.

  Slowly, Evelyn eased backwards, halting when the bed hit the back of her legs. Lifting her hands, she used her powers to raise a protective barrier, enclosing the ring of trees with her in the center.

  Branches and twigs broke with the movement of whatever was coming. She should have been terrified. She wasn’t. Just as the figure appeared on the other side of her magics, she sobbed and dropped her shield.

  Marrok barreled into Evelyn, knocking her backwards onto the bed. He landed atop her, adjusting his weight to his forearms. Desperate kisses covered her face, her neck, her collarbone.

  He buried his head in the crook of her neck, his arms clutching her body to his. He inhaled her delectable scent, drew it deep into his lungs. It took a moment for him to realize they were both shaking, not just him.

  Evelyn’s tears wet his skin and Marrok squeezed his eyes shut. Though he reviled her reason for weeping, he would bear it and wallow in the shelter of her arms. His mate was his anchor now.
The longer they were apart, the more adrift he felt.

  He hadn’t had a deep sleep for more than an hour here and there in six months. It had taken this long to get some semblance of control and he couldn’t be bothered to celebrate because he was so damned miserable.

  He was overtly discouraged, unable to find the culprit who organized the attacks in the summer. None of those captured could give him a name. One extremely disturbed bloke had gone on and on about Sephtis Kenelm setting the world right.

  The group was long dead and, even if they were active, they didn’t create rogue demons to terrorize other demons. Their purpose was balance. A nation filled with rogues was anything but.

  This week he’d hit a wall, his demon driving him to the breaking point. Quadrupling his efforts, and relying heavily on his men, Marrok pushed himself to the point of exhaustion.

  With what he hoped was the last of the rogues, he’d locked the gates to the Corak Peninsula’s colony, tripled the guard, and headed for the fortress. Nothing, short of death, was going to keep him from his mate this night.

  He held Evelyn until he felt her tears dry. She relaxed into his embrace and he rolled to the side, meeting her eyes.

  “I got your note,” he said.

  Evelyn’s sad laugh had his heart constricting inside his chest. Every letter he’d left had been short and void of emotion. He’d only been able to drop in for minutes at a time.

  When he saw her note last month, he knew he had to move mountains to get back to her. He’d finally been able to feel some of her emotions and he knew Evelyn was hurting. Marrok didn’t want to hurt his mate. He’d woken before he could reply and hadn’t been in a safe place long enough to dreamwalk again.

  I miss you. The three words were all she’d written. They were enough.

  “I missed you, too, my sweet.”

  Evelyn palmed the side of his face, which had grown thinner. His cheekbones were more pronounced. Dark circles highlighted his lower lids. His blackened hair was longer and unkempt.

  Had Marrok not been so large before, the weight loss would have made him look gaunt. Now he simply looked to be of the build of the males of Gwydion, still strong, but lean. Wiry.

  A narrow scar was forming from his temple to chin. Someone had cut him deeply. Her magics tingled in her fingertips at the idea someone had dared raised a blade to him.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  “I am now.”

  A thousand questions entered her mind. The bright, burning, yellowish-brown boring into her, shining onto her skin, dissolved them all. They could talk later. Right now, Evelyn needed to feel.

  Images of what she’d been fantasizing teased her, warming her from the inside. Any pretense of shyness died away under the intensity of her demon’s stare.

  She pressed her front as close to Marrok as she could get. Licking her lips, she hooked a leg over his hip, holding his hardened length to her center.

  “Did you not notice the bed?”

  “Evelyn.”

  He’d groaned her name. A warning. A plea. Marrok didn’t know which.

  Unflinchingly, Evelyn kissed him again, coaxing his lips apart with her tongue. Her left hand pulled at the bottom of his shirt, lifting it so she could place her fingertips upon his skin. Her thumb strummed his nipple and she suddenly found herself on her back.

  Marrok rose to his knees, watching Evelyn’s chest rise and fall in an increasing pace as he unbuttoned his shirt. She was wearing another flimsy nightgown, her pert nipples pushing out from under the silky material.

  He flung his shirt aside, debating where to touch her first. He wanted to see all of her, to roam and taste every square inch of skin. Unbuckling his belt, he forced himself to look upon her face.

  “Remove the gown,” he commanded.

  Heat flicked Evelyn’s already too-warm body. His vocals coated her in their magic and she only wished she could have the same effect upon him. She’d imagine his reaction to their combined nakedness a thousand times.

  Evelyn wondered what Marrok would think of her lack of underwear. She’d stopped going to bed with them since she’d created their woodland love nest in the hopes her actions could speak if she could not verbalize what she wanted.

  Courageously, she sat up enough to lift the gown over her head. His sharp inhale made her feel powerful. Beautiful. He’d seen her breasts before, put his mouth on her most sensitive areas, but she’d never been completely naked with him.

  Marrok halted his work removing his pants, taking the time to admire his mate. Mismatched eyes watched him intently. One thin brow, a shade darker than her hair, rose in challenge. Had Marrok and his demon not been so desperate for her calming touch, he would have laughed.

  Evelyn’s dark red hair hung in loose waves, partially covering her chest. He didn’t want any part of her hidden from his view. Slowly, he reached for her locks, placing them behind her shoulders.

  His knuckles grazed one rigid peak on their journey lower. He felt her abdominal wall tighten under his touch. Lower he went, listening to her breathing alter when he reached his destination. Gently, he rubbed and probed her cleft, growling when he found her already wet.

  In the dream’s surreal lighting, Evelyn’s skin was glowing a tawny gold, reminding him of the treasure she was. Marrok inhaled, her intoxicating arousal was a call he could not resist.

  His demon jumped to the surface. Before Evelyn could blink, he had his mouth on her, lapping up her sweet nectar. Her pants and moans had him licking at an increasing speed, demanding her release.

  Evelyn whimpered and her temperature soared. Marrok was stoking a fire, driving her mad with need.

  “Look at me,” his deep voice vibrated against her mound.

  His eyes bled black and she knew she was seeing his demon spirit. She watched his sinful tongue lash furiously at the pinnacle of her sensitive folds while one finger gently pushed at her opening.

  “Mine,” the guttural sound seared its magic against her core, filling her from the inside.

  His demon spirit’s voice wrenched an immediate climax from Evelyn’s quaking body. Ripples of pleasure overtook her ability to move or think. Such was her bliss, she didn’t notice the probing of his blunt crown until her orgasm began to ebb away.

  Marrok nudged his way between her folds, halting before he fully breached her entry. He waited until he had her full attention, giving her time to understand his intention. His arms shook from the power it took to hold back.

  “Are you sure, Evelyn? Is this what you want?”

  Take her, his demon demanded, readying to take control once again.

  Marrok held back, waiting for his mate to make her choice. They may be in the dreamworld, but it would feel real. Their subdued bond would likely strengthen because he wouldn’t be able to halt his demon from fully merging with her soul. He doubted the dreamworld would have any effect on dampening the connection of their spirits.

  “Yes.”

  “The blood bond already connects us. My demon will want more once I’m inside you. He’ll want to merge with your soul while we are together in this way.”

  “I want you, Marrok. Every part of you, and whatever comes with it. For you, I’ll accept it all.”

  His throat felt tight, overcome with something he didn’t want to name. His demon hummed merrily, beyond delighted with Evelyn’s declaration.

  Marrok hadn’t been inside a female in three years, not since he’d decided to keep Evelyn when she was eighteen. Worse, he hadn’t felt yearning for anyone the way he felt it for Evelyn. Had never felt such blind acceptance, not even when he’d been married.

  He lowered his forehead to hers, breathing through the desire to plunge into her tight sheath and take her hard. Evelyn deserved more care than that.

  Her small hands glided up his spine and gripped his hair. Lifting herself enough to reach him, she kissed him hungrily, like she was starving for his taste. Marrok lowered his weight, sliding his arms under her body. He rolled his hip
s forward.

  He slid in easily the first few inches. Carefully, he retreated, thrusting forward again, mindful to work his way deeper without hurting her. Evelyn’s choked cry halted his movement.

  “Are you—”

  “Don’t stop!” she hissed, digging her fingernails into his back.

  Marrok continued his shallow thrusts, working his mate into a frenzy. Evelyn scratched and rocked against him, demanding more. Her eagerness was too much for him to deny and he plunged deeper until he was seated fully inside her constricted channel. She was so tight it was almost painful.

  His demon spirit reached for her soul, merging them into one as Evelyn shouted his name. Her muscles clamped him in a vice-like grip. He tried to hold out, but he was no match for his mate’s convulsions.

  With a roar, Marrok spilled inside her womb, driving into her again and again. His vision blurred as his cock pulsed with his climax. His spirit was so entrenched in her soul he’d surely never get it back.

  Their throbbing releases were amplified by the merging of his spirit to hers. A minute passed while his demon coated himself in her essence. All demons could feel ecstasy in such a state. Marrok wondered how it felt to Evelyn.

  Her back arched, reeling from the sensory overload. She’d yet to come down from her high. It was almost too much.

  “What’s happening?” she breathed.

  “It’s our souls touching.”

  Evelyn felt like she was on fire, like the slightest movement would push her over again. “Please. Please do something.”

  Marrok tried to reign in his spirit.

  Evelyn’s head thrashed. “No! I need more!” she yelled.

  When she surged her hips upward, he understood her demand. Letting go of his demon, Marrok used his thumb against her knot of nerves as he continued to stretch her with his still-hardened cock.